


summertime verse

by wannabe_free



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4402349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabe_free/pseuds/wannabe_free
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>little narry drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Long time no see :) Randomly I wrote this. Randomly I might continue this verse or might start another or might not write at all.

It’s ten past seven, meaning Niall has fifteen minutes left before he has to leave if he wants to be on time for his date with Josh. He walks up to the fridge and grabs a beer in a desperate attempt to stop looking at Harry’s face for a while.

Niall is used to Harry getting in a funk whenever he has a date. He doesn’t even have that many; not near close to Harry’s never-ending list of hook ups, but. Harry still goes all pouty and gloomy whenever Niall starts seeing someone, hard as he tries to mask it with rough pats to Niall’s shoulder and an excessive use of the word bro.

“Hey bro! Just...If you are gonna get laid tonight, perhaps go to his place, yeah? Gotta stay up to finish this essay.”

Niall flushes, giving the beer one last chug before he puts it back in the fridge and dries his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. He watches Harry look at him tentatively from where he is sitting on the countertop, his weight leaning on his hands, eyebrows furrowed into a scowl and lips pursed in a thin line. “Not gonna. I barely know the guy.”

“Good.” Harry’s shoulders are tense, his expression blank but he sounds somewhat relieved. “Err…I mean, whatever, bro, if that’s what you want…” Niall resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's gotten past the point of wondering about Harry's odd reactions in the three years they have been sharing a flat. Harry looks particularly jittery today. He runs a sweaty hand through his already greasy fringe and opens his mouth to say something. The door bell goes off and Harry's face falls a little. Niall quirks an eyebrow at him and Harry jumps to the floor.

“It must be Jeff. Wasn't expecting him so early though."

Niall snorts under his breath and it sounds malicious to his ears, “So much for writing an essay…” he murmurs, just loud enough so Harry can hear it and get flustered.

“We are.” Harry protests airily. He has stopped walking midway to the door and his whole body posture screams tension. “Jeff is my best friend. I haven’t had sex with him.” He placates Niall with an incredulous stare, and continues to make his way towards the front door. Niall follows close behind him. Clears his throat dramatically and stage whispers, “Not yet.”

Harry stops in his tracks and turns all red in the face, and Niall immediately regrets having said it. He offers a conciliatory smile but it's too late, Harry's left eyebrow is already twitching.

Lately, Harry has been getting in the worst moods whenever Niall teases him for sleeping around so much. He even confronted Niall about it a couple of weeks ago- told Niall how it hurt him whenever he hinted that Harry was a slag. Niall has been doing a conscious effort to stop making comments about it since then but old habits die hard and he just mucked it up. “’sides, I am your best friend” Niall adds wanting to appease Harry, but looking at Harry’s face it seems to have the opposite effect. The doorbell rings again, it sounds deafening and Niall gulps.

Harry turns back and opens the door.

“Hey!” Greets Jeff walking into the flat. Niall notices that he did in fact bring his laptop and a backpack with him and it makes him feel even shittier. Jeffs drops the backpack on the floor and pats Niall's shoulder gamely, “Going anywhere, Nialler? Thought you were staying in.”

Niall unconsciously rolls his eyes and Jeff's smile falls slowly and he looks at Harry and then at Niall again, dumbfounded.

“He’s got a date.” Harry says flatly. He looks at his phone, pointedly, then at Niall “Shouldn’t you be going, bro?”

Niall winces and nods, his eyes looking for Harry’s. Harry looks everywhere but at him, still visibly hurt. Niall hates to leave the flat when things with Harry feel so off.

“Er, yeah. I guess…” He finally says dejectedly watching Harry's back as he heads back to the kitchen.

Jeff is looking up at him from where he has made himself home on the couch, and Niall sort of hates him. "Things are rough again, uh?"

*

Niall makes it to his car before he realizes that he left his wallet in the flat. He curses internally and rushes up the stairs. Last thing he wants to do is going back to the battle field so soon. He opens the door to the flat, stops in his tracks when he hears that Harry is obviously crying. He can’t see anything from where he is standing, meaning Jeff and Harry don’t see him either.

“Mate, you should just tell him.” Says Jeff, and Niall has never heard him use that voice before. Instinctively Niall leans forward. Tries to ignore the sound of his own breathing.

“Can’t.” Harry weeps. His voice sounds hoarse. Like when he's had an asthma attack and Niall has to force him to drink his ginger and lemon tea. “He… you know what he thinks I’m like. He thought you and I were gonna get off together tonight.”

Niall can make out Jeff’s gasp of disbelief “That’s mad.”

“I know.”

“You are crazy about him” Insist Jeff.

“I know!” Harry lets out, and it comes out slightly hysterical. Voice so sad that makes Niall want to cry with him.

Inside the living room Harry and Jeff keep talking in hushed voices with Harry’s little sobs echoing now and again. Niall looks down at his trembling hands and wonders how long he has been standing there. He is breathing a little funny and he is trying his best not to freak out. He waits until Harry’s calmed down in the living room- waits until Harry sounds less distressed and rewards Jeff with a half hearted chuckle. Then, as silently as he came in, Niall leaves the flat again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Totally unrelated to the previous chapter. Just as random.

“Eyyyy. Stay. So fucking cold in this country! No wonder you'all are so pale...”

Niall rolls his eyes but relents, leaning back against Harry's chest with a long, exasperated sigh. Harry immediatly places his arm around Niall's skinny shoulders, hugging the blonde close to him and burying the tip of his nose where Niall's collarbones meet his neck. It's freeing. Harry's always had terrible circulation and whereas Niall is feeling quite toasty in his henley and skinny jeans, Harry insist that Niall must sit in his lap to help him get back the feeling of his legs. Sitting at the corner of the changing room, Niall notices Bobby stealing little glances at them, littlest smile creeping up his face, and Niall groans.

“He wants us to marry.” Harry whispers to him, a wicked lilt to his voice. “ Wants me to carry your children. Have sturdy boys to preserve the Horan family name.”

Niall shift in his lap to get a better look at Harry, “Nahhh. Don't insult the old man. He'd never want haf British grandchildren.”

Harry clicks his tongue, fingers drawing abstract patterns along Niall's arm. “He wouldn't mind. He loves me. We'd raise them up in a farm nearby Mullingar. I'd ask Anne and Gemma to move in as well. It'd be nice.”

It would be lovely. Niall closes his eyes, lulled by Harry's breathy voice, and tries to picture the whole thing.

“Would we have horses?” His eyelids are getting heavier. It would take such an effort to open his eyes now.

“Yes. Of course. And we'd have sheep. Tons of sheep. And we'd have shepherd cats to take care of them.”

Niall's chest rustles happily with laughter, “There's no such thing, Harold.”

“We'll make it a thing, then. We are both cat people. It will have to work.”

Niall can feel Harry's eyes on him, expecting some sort of approval, but Niall is too tired to reward him for his efforts. Harry kisses him them, sweet, on the cheek and Niall heaves a sigh, eyelashes fluttering, so so content.

“Sleep, love.”

Niall's nose scrunches up, the tiniest bit, and he feels Harry's finger on his face, first tracing his nose and then his cheek. Niall struggles to open his eyes, “Love?”

Harry smiles, his eyes all crinckly and sleepy, “You called me pet.”

“Yes... yes I did.”

With that Niall shuffles a bit in Harry's lap and rests his head on his bestfriend's chest. Lovely.

So, so lovely.


End file.
